Portrait, Portrait, on the Wall
by Tessa Van Rompaey
Summary: Portrait, portrait, on the wall, who in the land is deadliest of all?
1. Chapter 1

It was a snowy winter day. Christmas, to be precise. A day I'd always loathed. I looked over Dorian's portrait one last time, drinking from my cup. My lovely brother. My sweet Dorian. My best - my only friend. Killed by a vampire. A filthy, bloodsucking _vampire_! I furiously threw my cup at the wall, and instantly regretted it when I saw the pretty, icy porcelain shatter on the floor. I looked back at the time Mina had killed Dorian, three years ago.

_ Dorian stabbed Mina in the chest, and triumphantly dropped her onto the bed, taking his sword out of her body. "I thought I'd nail you one more time. I didn't think it'd be _literally_," he mocked. He turned around and wiped Mina's blood off the blade. I had the best view from behind the curtain. To my surprise, Mina suddenly sat up and lunged at him. She took the sword from his hand and plunged it into his stomach, pinning him to the wall._

_ "You broke my heart once. _This _time, you missed it," she said, grinning. She picked the covered portrait from the ground and held it up, facing Dorian. He desperately pulled at the sword, trying to free himself. Mina pulled the cover off the portrait, revealing the painting of a corpse. This was how Dorian would have looked, if the painting hadn't aged instead of him.  
"Time to face your demon, Dorian," she said, as she showed him the distorted, dead face. Dorian's face twisted in horror as he tried to break free once again. But it was too late. His skin began to eerily peel off of him. I wanted to run to them and turn the portrait away, but it was too late. I wondered why I didn't do anything before he was faced with what he normally should have looked like. And before I knew it, all that was left of my brother, of Dorian, was a skeleton. Mina looked as horrified as I did, but I didn't care. I would kill her. I would do what Dorian wasn't able to do. I would avenge my brother._

My own portrait was lost. Nobody - not even _I_ - knew where it was. I stood up and carefully hung Dorian's painting back on the wall. It was a well-made painting. I'd had a handsome brother. Another reason why I had to kill Mina. She'd put to waste one of the world's finest-looking men.

I walked over to the wooden front door and put my coat on hastily; then, I stepped into the deep, crunchy snow and sank in to my knees. I was heading for Mr Jenkins' shop. Over at the bakery, Mr Jenkins would have fresh bread. The bell rattled as I walked into the shop.

"Good morning, Mr Jenkins," I said, not smiling despite the date it was on that day. Mr Jenkins looked up and laughed merrily, sounding slightly like Father Christmas, which went well with the weather and the season, and of course the date.

"Merry Christmas, Ms Thompson! The usual for you?" he asked, using the name I had given myself to keep a low profile. If I went around known as Harmony Gray, Mina would surely come after me, and I was not willing to confront her until I had the certainty that my portrait was not in her possession. I nodded.

"You're lucky. Not many people come in on a day like this, they're all celebrating Christmas. I, unfortunately, have to work until the sun sets," he said, wrapping steaming bread in a sheet of paper.

"Oh, shame," I said dryly, , trying hard to look sorry. I put some money on the counter.

"Here you go, Ms Thompson. Have a nice day," he said, handing me the bread.

"You, too, Mr Jenkins," I replied sullenly, and walked out of the bakery. I headed back home, ignoring everyone who looked at me.

Oh, how I was looking forward to the day I would find Mina and drive my dagger through her heart.

"You. You're not a Thompson. I know the Thompsons. They're all dead," I heard behind me. I turned around slowly - I didn't want to seem suspicious - but I saw nobody, so I continued walking, telling myself it'd been my imagination.

"You're a Gray. You have the same eyes as Dorian," the person said again. I turned around in a flash, and still, I couldn't see anybody.

"Who are you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. There was someone there, I sensed it, yet I couldn't see anyone.

"The name's Rodney Skinner. And we've got to blether a bit about your brother," the man said. He had an accent, and used an unfamiliar dialect. So he wanted to talk about Dorian.

"You're invisible," I said vaguely.

"Aye."

"I refuse to 'blether' about Dorian with an invisible man," I said, and started to walk away. I didn't bother to deny being a Gray, because this man obviously knew Dorian.

"Oh, that's all right," he said. When I turned to look at where the voice was coming from, I saw a floating coat, hat and shoes. Gradually, white paint was being blotched onto an invisible face. "Let's go have a walk, now."

Sighing, I followed him. "How can you not be worried about people seeing you, Mr Skinner?" I asked.

"Simple. I ain't ashamed of my invisibility. In fact, you can't begin to imagine the luck with-"

"Swallow the end of that sentence, Mr Skinner. Now what did you want to talk about?" I interrupted him because I just wanted to get it over with.

"Your brother's looking for you. I've been looking for you as well-"

Again, I stopped him. "Mr Skinner, my brother is dead. I saw it happen. Mina Harker killed him."

"Actually, she didn't. She killed someone, all right, but it wasn't Dorian. I don't see how you didn't notice the difference between your brother and his ditto-er," Rodney said, amused.

"Excuse me? My brother's _what_?" I asked, gaping at him.

"You know how you and Dorian both have immortality and invincibility until faced with your own portraits, right?"

"Yes?"

"And you know how I'm invisible?"

"Yes, Mr Skinner. Please just get on with it," I said, beginning to get annoyed. He was stretching it out instead of just telling me.

"There exists someone who can take on the looks of anybody else, and as it turns out, he wasn't prepared for Dorian's portrait. He didn't know that if he copied the appearance of one of us, he'd get everything else about us with it. For example, if he'd copied Mina, he would have been immortal like her. So when he became Dorian, he was just as invincible, until he was faced with his portrait. He died like Dorian would have."

"Thank you, Mr Skinner. Where is my brother?" I asked. I was starting to form a plan in my mind. I'd run back to my house, get Dorian's portrait, then head out to find him.

"I'll take you to him," Rodney told me. _Well,_ I thought, _that changes my plans._

"Okay. Just let me get Dorian's portrait first." I paused. "Wait... didn't he betray you all?"

Rodney laughed, as if I hadn't seen the obvious when it was right in front of me. "The copycat betrayed us, love. I didn't think you'd miss that after I told you-"

"Shut up, Mr Skinner, and meet me here in ten minutes," I said. The cold look on my face must have been quite icy, because he immediately stopped talking and nodded seriously.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Rodney laughed, as if I hadn't seen the obvious when it was right in front of me. "The copycat betrayed us, love. I didn't think you'd miss that after I told you-"**_

_**"Shut up, Mr Skinner, and meet me here in ten minutes," I said. The cold look on my face must have been quite icy, because he immediately stopped talking and nodded seriously.**_

_**

* * *

**_

I took off, heading for my house quickly. There, I cautiously picked my brother's portrait off the wall and walked back out. I locked the door behind me and put the key in my leather pouch. I made sure the bow at the back of my beige, silk gown was fastened properly, then I put my hat on.

Back at the alley where I'd met him, Rodney was waiting. "Shall we?" he asked, looking at my brown curls. Oh dear, I'd forgotten to put my hair up. I took off my hat and started to bunch my hair together. Rodney, who knew what I was doing, grabbed my wrist and shook his head.

"Nay, lady. Leave your hair down. Just because you're wearing a hat doesn't mean your hair's got to be inside it," he said. I dropped my hair, startled.

"Er, all right..." I muttered. "Let's get going before Dorian thinks we're dead."

Rodney seemed amused, because a smirk grew on his face. "Dorian knows I'll get you to him."

"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge, Mr Skinner," I said, narrowing my eyes at him.

"Maybe it is a challenge, lady," he said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly.

"My name is not 'lady', Mr Skinner," I said, sighing.

"Ms Gray, then?" he asked, uninterested.

"Just call me Harmony. I have a first name for a reason," I told him, rolling my eyes.

"Only if you call me Rodney."

"Don't be stupid, Mr Skinner. No one calls you Rodney," I said, frowning.

"Be the first to call me that, then," Rodney insisted. He was starting to get on my nerves

"If you say so. Now get me to my brother before I ditch you," I said, retrieving the icy expression on my face.

A new person turned up, then, and he was just as I remembered. Not a single difference. It struck me at such lightning speed that I needed Rodney to hold me up. His dark, brown, shoulder-length hair and hazelnut eyes were glowing with recognition and restrained joy. His pale complexion and favourite beige suit clashed graciously as he stood in front of me. He still had his small goatee and moustache. Yes, it was really my brother. Dorian was really there.

"Merry Christmas," he said, smiling pleasantly. I pulled out of Rodney's arms and wrapped mine around Dorian's waist, pulling him into a hug. He hugged me back immediately.

"I thought you were dead..." I said, with tears in my eyes.

"I thought _you_ were," he replied. He wasn't about to cry, like I was, but the knot in his throat was obvious.

* * *

The house in which Dorian and his friend were temporarily staying was quite big. Not really a mansion, but it was larger than a villa. Perhaps it was a manor or something. The front door was pretty far from the gate, which was a typical Dorian choice. He found it necessary to see whoever walked through the gate before they reached the front door, just in case it was an enemy.

The doorknob was an iron lion-head, with its tongue as a knocker. Another typical Dorian choice.

It was an ageing man who let us in. He had whitening hair and a pistol tucked into his belt. He nodded at me.

"The name's Quatermain. Allan Quatermain," he said with a smile.

"Harmony Gray," I presented, and simultaneously, a young man came running down the staircase.

"Allan, I need help --" He froze when he saw me, and lowered the gun he had in his hands. He continued the way down the stairs slowly.

"Harmony," he said. It wasn't a question. He knew exactly who I was.

"Tom." And _I_ knew exactly who _he_ was. Tom Sawyer, the American sniper who'd saved my life before the existence of my portrait. His wavy blond hair falling in front of his hazel eyes.

"You two know each other?" Rodney asked, snapping me out of my trance.

"Er, yeah. We go back a few years," I said, still slightly dazed.

"A few? Try twenty years." Tom was amused. I knew that to him, I hadn't changed at all.

Dorian put his hand on my shoulder. "I'll leave you two to catch up, and after that, it'll be _our_ turn to catch up. Okay, Harmony?"

I nodded. I felt like I'd retrieved two important things that had been stolen from me. Allan, Rodney and Dorian walked into the kitchen, and I knew I'd be the topic of their conversation.

* * *

"I thought you got killed," Tom told me, taking my hand in his.

"I didn't know you worked with Dorian," I said outright.

"I don't. I work with Allan. And I never knew you were really related to Dorian. I mean, I knew you had the same last name, but I didn't think he was really your brother. You never told me..."

"Dorian told you about me?" I asked, frowning. Dorian wouldn't talk to anyone about me.

"Yes, but I knew you were brother and sister when I saw him. Where were _you_?" He seemed troubled, so I decided not to withhold any information from him.

"I was with Fantom. I worked for him. He told me there was a lot to gain for me, but if I'd known it would involve betraying you and Dorian, I wouldn't have gone through with it. I was supposed to kill Mina, but then I saw Dorian with her. Well, it wasn't really Dorian, it was a copycat, but I thought it was him. I saw her kill him, so then I really wanted to go up against her. Now I know she didn't do anything wrong," I explained. I could see he wasn't upset about what I'd just said. I knew he understood.

"How did you find out Dorian wasn't dead?" he asked.

"Rodney found me on my way home and explained everything."

* * *

**_Sorry, it's kind of short, but I don't have much time right now._**


End file.
